


You Belong Here

by LeviathanDee



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Comfort, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviathanDee/pseuds/LeviathanDee
Summary: Family was never a word that Dante had to use too often in his vocabulary. Decades of separation and neglect seemed to stretch, until he finally found where he belonged; in this drunken celebration with his slightly dysfunctional family.(This is a work created for DMC Week 2020, Day 6, using the prompts "home", "family", and "belonging").
Relationships: Kyrie/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	You Belong Here

The scorching July sun seemed to boil every living being which dared step foot outside, merciless rays beating down upon the Earth. Whoever escaped the confines of their four walls were bound to become crispy at the sheer thought of the sun. There were, however, some  _ fools  _ who tempted fate, and proceeded to have an entire barbeque outside.

The Spardas, alongside the Devil May Cry crew, were said fools.

Of course, no one could deny Kyrie, the kindest, most gentle creature to ever grace the planet, a day outside. Especially during a celebration. Especially on a  _ pregnant Kyrie’s birthday _ .

It was July tenth, the weather being arid and overly vacant of any breezes. This only made the heat far more excruciating. Kyrie didn’t seem to feel the blazes, her skin absorbing the rays to form a honeyed tan which complimented the amber glimmer in her eyes. Whereas Nero, unfortunately, panted like a rabid dog. His skin seemed to turn scarlet at the mere thought of summer. Evidently, the situation turned even worse for the boy since he had to man the barbeque, grilling burgers, as well as sausages, meanwhile being inevitably covered in helix coils of smoke. His beloved watched him apologetically, whilst he continued to sweat up a storm, beckoning the children to pick up their mouthwatering meals.

Dante sat beside an orchard, the apple trees being a godsend for shade in his time of need. Although the Sparda twin could withstand blazing temperatures, it was only for a short period of time; Not an entire day. Brushing his white, sweat-soaked locks away from his brow, Dante grabbed the neck of the beer bottle, letting the bubbles gently glide down his throat. He basked in the sensation for what seemed a whole eternity, whilst the sound of bickering and giggling children filled his ears. It was blissful, to say the least. To feel like he belonged. To have family.

He had hoped Verge felt the same about this reunion.

Thinking about his twin brother, Dante turned to the blue devil, noting that Vergil’s usual scowl was wiped clean off of his visage. Instead, his face was soft, bereft of any tension. He seemed… happy. Relaxed. It was refreshing to see. Albeit his quiet nature, the elder twin continued to lift the corners of his lips, reacting to the children, as well as Nico’s vulgar comments and Kyrie’s deathly glares at the gunsmith. Trish and Lady were the other pair to cause a ruckus, making Vergil smirk anytime they were told off by Nero for using non-family friendly language at the dinner table.

“Aww  _ shit _ , we’re out of ketchup.” As a slightly intoxicated Lady let the curse word slip, she squeezed the condiment bottle harder, making it spurt out a less-than elegant bowel movement noise, and a pathetic dollop of tomato sauce. The children fell into hysterics, Nero and Kyrie unsure of whether to reprimand the woman, or giggle alongside the kids.

Dante continued to watch the spectacle, a warmth blooming in his chest.

Vergil was happy. In turn, so was his younger brother.

“So, Verge, enjoying yourself?” Sipping on liquid courage, Dante turned his head to his twin.

“Hmm. It appears as though I am.” The blue devil assumed a somewhat distant stare, turning his gaze towards his busy son at the grill. His eyes softened at the sight of Nero. If there was a trace of bittersweetness in Vergil’s expression, it came and went almost instantly. However, Dante knew him better than anyone, and could recognise his elder brother’s ghosts of guilt and regret quickly.

As a sudden breeze eased the tension of blanketing heat, Dante sighed, and recalled a nostalgia fueled memory.

“Remember when mum and dad brought all of their friends to the manor for a barbeque? We ended up playing with the other kids, whilst the grown-ups got drunk?” The scarlet devil sucked air in through his teeth, the memory almost too painful to relive. Vergil recoiled at the sudden recollection.

“I reminisce about those days often.”

“You were a damn sprightly kid, Verge. Always running off and hiding to read. Me and the others had to search for you, only to find you up on that gnarly tree, chomping on some apple.”

Dante continued with the mental memoir, his lips curling upwards. He could almost hear the voices of the children and Vergil’s adamant refusal to climb down. He could smell the delectable cuisine of his father's _ famous burnt burgers _ and his mother’s soft laughter. Even the gentle grass lapping at his ankles was as vivid of a memory as the display of giggling children before him.

“And now…” Dante inhaled deeply, a ghost of a bittersweet smile gracing his lips, “now we’re the ones sitting, getting wasted, whilst the kiddos play.”

“What are you getting at, Dante?” Vergil uncrossed his arms, running his fingers through his hair, a tell-tale sign of either annoyance or discomfort. Dante simply waited to collect his thoughts, the image of past times being too much. In retaliation to the thoughts, he inhaled the scent of sweetened smoke, inching himself to the empty seat beside Vergil. He let out an almost elderly sigh as he landed in the chair before continuing earnestly.

“We made it, Verge. We've come full circle.”

Vergil's reforming thoughtful brow wrinkle made its famous comeback, his mind processing Dante's statement.

So they did come full circle.

Dante was so adamant on having something dear to hold onto, he was finally rewarded with a family. Finally rewarded with what he longed for since he was eight years old. Though it was a screwed up little group with issues that would take a few more decades to sort out, it was  _ his  _ family. Vergil was very much a part of that family. It warmed every cold crevice of the blue devil’s beating heart, the melodic rhythm becoming even prouder.

"Christ, Vergil. You have a son, can you believe it? In fact, you're going to have a grandkid. You're going to be the youngest looking gramps to have ever lived." Dante attempted to pinch his brother’s cheek, earning him an irked scoff, alongside a hearty slap to the back of the head. It seemed as though they returned to their youthful selves, ignoring the wrinkle lines that arose with age, and the exhaustion inflicted violet splodges beneath their eyes.

They were kids again, trying their best to catch up on the lost years of brotherly bickering.

...

The air began to cool off as the evening drifted. Nero was unchained from his duties, sipping a chilled beer, pleased hums and sighs resounding from his chest. Kyrie cuddled into Nero’s side, the both of them entangled behind the table. Viewing the spectacle, Dante turned to Vergil once more.

"I think mum and pops would be proud." The statement came out of the blue, yet did not startle the blue devil. Instead, his visage was graced with a saccharine smile, the type that Dante had rarely seen in the man. In fact, it was only witnessed during their eventful, albeit brief, childhood.

"Hmm… I hope so." Sighing, contentment written all over Vergil’s features, he craned his neck up to the trees, breathing in the tender breeze of the summer evening.

Dante continued to reminisce about his nephew, and the love of Nero’s life. Seeing the shy ‘couple’ back in Fortuna, he never anticipated to witness this decade-long result; A great-nephew. Kyrie seemed to glow as she nuzzled into her beloved’s side, with a five month bump becoming a prominent addition to her frame. It was a wondrous thing to Dante, knowing that their little dysfunctional family was ever-expanding. The fuzzy feelings appeared to bloom at an exponential rate, which the scarlet devil attempted to gulp down with bubbling alcohol.

_ He was proud of them. Proud of the tiny group. His family. _

A boisterous Nico interrupted any thoughts, eclipsing the view of the couple with her presence.

"So, 'nother beer for ya, gents?" She offered to provide more drinks, with Dante gladly accepting and Vergil politely declining. Whilst the Spardas’ intoxication was low, Lady and Trish were completely sloshed. Their joyous dancing was evidence of the fact.

Nico turned to the middle of the garden where the pair were swaying their arms about as if they were attempting to fend off mosquitos.

“Lady is gonna regret all that booze in the morning. Not sure ‘bout Trish though.” As the young gunsmith twirled on her heels to approach Nero and Kyrie, the dancing pair of intoxicated women began to beckon Dante.

“Hey! Give us your iconic MJ dance!” Trish slurred not a single word, Dante noting that she was playing the drunk to accompany Lady.

“C’moooon Mr. Sparda. Please?” Lady, however, slurred  _ every _ word. It wasn’t often she had the time or the energy to let loose, so the evening was some well deserved alleviation of pent up stress and frustration. In the distance, Kyrie giggled at Lady’s tipsiness, earning the birthday girl an amorous peck on her button nose from Nero.

The scarlet devil stood from his seat whilst giving Nico an impish smirk, before summoning Dr. Faust into his palm. It appeared as though the cowboy hat materialised from countless twinkling coils of demonic energy. Nico returned his mischievous smile with her own, silently fist bumping the air. Nero simply sighed and clicked his tongue, mirroring his father’s own mannerisms of annoyance and exasperation.

“Not again…”

“YES AGAIN! HIT IT, DANTE!” Nico joined in on the two buzzed women on the garden dancefloor. As a natural performer, Dante swished the headpiece upon his crown, assuming a pose that could wow the crowd.

For hours, the party continued, each member of the crew joining in on the song and dance. Even Vergil pranced into the centre, grabbing a wasted Lady to waltz with him. Toasts were made, followed by treasured tears trailing alongside the speeches, each word weighing the world. Their love for each other, and this little makeshift family, could not be altered or demolished in any way possible. For each of these members lost someone close to them. Whether it was a father, a mother, a brother, or their entire livelihood. They ultimately found a group of like-minded individuals to fill the void. Nothing could separate them.

_ ‘You belong here’  _ a tiny cherished voice uttered in the back of Dante’s mind. For the first time in decades, he was happy. He felt like he belonged.

Hell, he  _ did _ belong. 

_ And nothing could change the fact. _


End file.
